


the sun and the moon

by mooncakedup



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooncakedup/pseuds/mooncakedup
Summary: Loving Jackson Wang was like loving the sun. But the thing about the sun is that it burns if you’re in it too long and you can never look directly at it or you’ll be blinded. That's what loving Jackson was like. It was too much sometimes, too intense, too overpowering. You very often felt like you might burn up from flying to close to him like Icarus when he flew too close to the sun in greek myths. Jackson was the sun and you were burning up under him.
Relationships: Jackson Wang & You
Kudos: 7





	the sun and the moon

Everyone always talks about how much they love the moon and the things it brings with it. It brings the stars that people study from afar, made wishes on, and stare at in their vast expanse of never-ending dim light. the moon brings with it a darkness that causes large cities to sparkle, light up, and glimmer in contrast to it. Cities at night were often compared to the same night sky that people love, tiny little sparkles and bright lights that amazed and cause wonder. everyone always seemed to be so enthralled with a giant rock floating in the sky and the way it moved the oceans and made cities light up. And you were a person who loved the moon.

“I've been watching you for some time. Can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes…” the voice of Billie Eilish streamed steadily through the speakers in your office as you focused on the task at hand, editing a large batch of photos from a photoshoot you had completed earlier that day with a local fashion company. 

It was just the middle of spring in Seoul. plants that had been dormant for months were coming back to life with the vibrancy and color of a Crayola crayon factory. Only it smelled much better. Spring was a time of renewal. You loved the way people shed their winter coats to enjoy being outside in the colors that nature was putting back on. spring was your favorite time of year to photograph. The way the sun was lighter, more airy. colors were still soft and not yet at full capacity as they would be in the summer.

The shoot had been all about that same natural beauty. So the models were wearing almost no makeup, their hair blowing in the breeze and laughing smiles beautifully adorned their faces in an almost poetic way. Most would call it candid. But to you, it was your own personal style of photography. Sure you could handle anything, high fashion with sharp angles, large sets with so many lights it could rival time square, the intensity of a runway, the heat of dozens of camera flashes at a red carpet. But you loved and became known for the honest, natural, and candid way you captured people.

“….no fair. You really know how to make me cry when you give me those ocean eyes….” The singer continued on as you glanced at the clock on your computer. A tiny “00:13” looked back at you and you rubbed your eyes, hoping you could finish soon and head to bed as it was way too late. you never let your work keep you from getting sleep. You loved to sleep almost as much as you loved photography. You uncrossed your legs and placed your feet back on the floor of your office space. 

You had customized your office space in the apartment yourself. It had dark ebony wood floors and medium tan walls. On the wall to your back was a floor to ceiling custom bookcase that held books, trinkets and personal photos in decorative frames. Your desk was simple and modern, a glass top with dark wood legs which your Mac sat atop of. On either of the walls to your left and right were some of your favorite photos you had taken over the last five years of your career of all different shapes and sizes all framed nicely in dark wood frames. The wall across from your desk and the bookshelf wall was a wall that was floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Seoul. The heavy dark brown faux velvet curtains you had hung were pushed wide open so you could see all the dazzling lights of the city. 

“….I’m scared. I've never fallen from quite this high, falling into your ocean eyes….” Billie continued to sing on sadly and you finished the few remaining photos you had left which only took a few more moments. you turned off the music in your office and made your way to the kitchen to grab a granola bar and then head to bed. 

The kitchen was by most standards unused. You didn’t like to cook and neither did your boyfriend really. You all did it if you had to but neither of you really enjoyed it. It was all white cabinets with an all-white subway tile backsplash. You ran your fingertips across the cold white and gray marble countertop as you walked past it to the upper cabinet you needed. Honestly, your whole apartment seemed rather unused to most people. You had only moved into the apartment two months ago, so you were still trying to add your things in with your boyfriends. 

You got a granola bar from the box and unwrapped it and started eating it when you heard the door to your apartment unlock. You stood there, staring at the back of the black wooden door confused because Jackson wasn’t supposed to be back from Hong Kong for another two days. Yet, in walked Jackson, bag slung over his shoulder pulling at the neckline of his black t-shirt, phone, and keys in hand. You blinked at him and continued to stand there, mouth still full of the granola bar. 

“Ya know, most girlfriends would be surprised to see their boyfriend coming home early to surprise them,” he smiled and let out a small laugh in the doorway as he dropped his bag on the wooden floor and closed the black wooden door. And he was right most of them would be.

You quickly swallowed the granola bar yet remained where you stood, feet firmly rooted in the floor of the what now seemed too blindingly white kitchen. “Well yeah, I’m surprised. I just dont know what to say. I thought you’d be gone for another few days,” your voice sounded small to yourself, you were nervous and you weren’t sure if he could tell.

It had only been recently that your relationship with Jackson had become strained and put this big looming cloud over your head. Loving Jackson Wang was like loving the sun. He was warm, treated you nicely, caring, would do anything for you, treated you like you had never been treated before. He was bright, he lit up any room he walked into, he didn’t demand attention, people just gave it to him, it was impossible not to notice him. But the thing about the sun is that it burns if you’re in it too long and you can never look directly at it or you’ll be blinded. Thats what loving Jackson was like. It was too much sometimes, too intense, too overpowering. You very often felt like you might burn up from flying to close to him like Icarus when he flew too close to the sun in greek myths. Jackson was the sun and you were burning up under him. 

Jackson walked over to you from the place he had been standing at near the door. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Zeus himself had handcrafted Jackson. despite having been on a plane from Hong Kong back to Seoul, he looked perfect. Chestnut hair shining in the lights. even though he wasn’t wearing any foundation, his skin looked like it had been airbrushed to perfection. His black dress pants clung to his muscular legs in a way that should’ve made your mouth water. His black t-shirt evenly tracing his defined pecks and the sleeves wrapped perfectly around his toned arms. He looked like a meal. But you weren’t hungry. 

He placed his hand softly on your left cheek and studied your soft eyes with his deep, dark yet warm chocolate ones. His gaze was burning so much you thought you might walk away with a sunburn. You thought that he surely would’ve seen right through you then and there, seen that you had planned on leaving him. And the way he was so intensely staring at you right now, you knew that you had to leave or you’d suffer being burned the rest of your life. 

“Come,” he said softly still holding your gaze for a moment and broke the contact as he walked off towards where your shared bedroom was. You stood there for a moment, trying to catch your breath and placed your hands on your cheeks to cool them off as they had become warm and flushed under Jackson’s look and touch. 

After you took a beat to collect yourself, you quietly padded after Jackson to your bedroom. 

Aside from your office, the bedroom was your favorite room. It was a good sized room. The bed was on the wall that was opposite from a wall of windows that were exactly the same as the ones in your office, only this time thick black stain curtains hung over them. The bed was king-sized, covered with dark gray sheets, a black comforter and a small collection of black silk-clad pillows, on either side of it were ebony wood side tables. The walls were painted the same medium tan as your office. One wall had a small collection of photos in silver frames hanging above a large ebony wood dresser. On the other wall was the door to your on-suite bathroom and closet. And the thick tan carpet felt good under your feet as you entered the room. 

You could hear Jackson opening and closing drawers in the closet. So you stood near the window, looking down on the city of Seoul. in your faint reflection in the window, you could see that you looked tired and you felt it too. You didn’t know what Jackson was wanting or what he was doing in the closet but you didn’t ask because you knew the hurt was going to come eventually. 

You continued to look down on the city for a few moments more until Jackson emerged from the space just beyond your room. He was carrying a black velvet box and to your relief, it was too big and too flat for a ring. You guessed that it was maybe a bracelet or a necklace of some kind. Jackson took a seat on the black vanity bench that was at the foot end of the bed and let out a sigh, rubbing the box with his thumb. You continued to stand near the window and rubbed the top of your arm as you waited for him to speak. 

Jackson finally looked up at you with a furrowed brow. You could tell that concern and worry were making his normally sparkling eyes dark and clouded. He pursed his lips, looked back down at the box, and sighed again. You pulled your athletic shorts back up by the waistband a bit just to find something to do with your hands before you settled on just crossing at your chest. And you nervously shifted your weight to one leg.

“I know you want to leave me,” the words came from Jackson’s mouth as if he had just said the most normal thing to anyone and he continued to stare at the box in his hand. “I know that loving me isn’t easy. If you even are in love with me still.” 

You just stood there, an amazed and shocked look on your face. You assumed he knew something was wrong but you had no idea that he knew this much. In fact, since you had moved into the apartment two months ago you had only spent maybe a total of two weeks together here. even those two weeks ever a whirlwind of appearances together, photoshoots, interviews. Outside of that he was always in the studio, doing a promo, or flying back and forth to Hong Kong. all of that was fine, that was his job, you understood that more than anyone he had ever dated. It wasn’t his work that put the strain on you, it was Jackson himself, it was just the intensity that was Jackson as a person.

“I know that I’m almost never here, both physically and mentally. I know that you must be annoyed that we’ve been living together for two months and we’ve only seen each other maybe two weeks of that,” he continued, his tone low but speaking from his heart. “And to think we still haven’t christened this bed or any of the other surfaces in the apartment.” he glanced at you and you exchanged a small half-smile at the comment and he went back to looking at the box in his hand.

‘I know that who I am is a lot to handle. I am sure that the time we did spend together was a lot for you to handle. I often let my passion get the best of me, I get carried away when I’m passionate about something. I let it consume me.” You shifted your weight to your other foot as you continued to listen to what Jackson was saying.

“I feel like I never tell you how much I actually love you. I mean…I tell you. But I don’t tell you how much. I try more to show you rather than tell you all of the time, and I am not doing a very good job of either of those things,” he paused. “I think I’m rabbling,” and he looked over at you with sad eyes.

You shifted your weight again and rubbed the top of your arm again as the cold from the window was radiating off and causing your arm to chill but you needed the cool next to you to keep you grounded. “I mean yeah you are a little but I'm listening,” you softly encouraged him to continue. He smiled lightly but continued, looking at your eyes, his still filled with sadness and worry. 

“I need to know how you’re feeling, why you want to do this.” His voice was soft yet firm. You continued to look into those eyes. Eyes that had captured your attention from behind the lens of your camera months ago. Eyes that had looked into yours so many times in times of sadness, happiness, and moments of love and excitement. 

you closed your eyes and took a shaky deep breath and tried to muster up the courage to say what you needed to. “Jackson you are the sun.” He looked at you, more confused than he was before. “You are bright and warm, people just naturally give you attention because you are there. people are drawn to your intensity, your passion. When you’re muted, everyone takes note. Everyone misses the sun when it's cloudy out. but Jackson you are burning me up,” your eyes were still closed and your voice was cracking, rising in volume as you went on with the last sentence.

“Oh, my darling. I might be the sun but you are the moon,” his voice was soft, it reminded you of the way he would talk to small children, so soft and caring. You slowly opened your eyes tears pooling in them. 

you looked at him and questioned, “what do you mean?” Jackson sat the black box on the bench next to him lightly and got up and slowly walked towards you, just close enough to touch your arm if he reached out.

“I might be the sun,” he repeated again, “but you are the moon.” his brown eyes were back to sparkling just a little but they held some hurt in them. “People often squint at the sun in frustration, but stare at the moon in wonder.”

You still didn’t get what he was getting at so you just stared at him, hoping he would continue. 

“The moon glows because of the reflection of the light of the sun. You should see the way people stare at you, not me when we go places and do things together. You radiate. Everyone looks at you when we enter a room together. You shine despite me. The sun is bright, yes, but the moon is radiant. People write songs, poems, and stories of the moon. No one does that for the sun.” Jackson was still intently going on about some story about how the moon shone because of the sun and how the sun only shone so brightly so it could illuminate the surface of the moon every night for the people on earth, the sun shone so brightly so the moon could radiate and people would love it.

You had never seen Jackson so passionately speak about you this way. Jackson might have been the sun, burning often to brightly that people had to squint and often wanted to temper him. But you were his moon, radiating his light in a way that people could handle, in a way that made people love the both of you together. He was still going on and on about the story but you weren’t listening anymore.

“I’m your moon?” You questioned so quietly that he didn’t hear you over his own rambling.

“What? Yes, you are my own moon. Pulling me in and out of my own passion when its too much or not enough, just like the moon moved the tides of the ocean. Helping me shine my light in a way that others can better handle it,” he said softly.

You were looking into his eyes, searching for how he was feeling. “What’s in the box?” You looked away from him and to the box that was still on the bench. 

“Don’t get mad at her but Madison might have given me in indiction of how you were feeling earlier this week before I had left,” Madison was your assistant, and you had broken down on her two days before Jackson has left about how you were feeling and you mentally cursed her for telling Jackson.

Jackson reached his hand out to take yours. You glanced at his hand and then up to his eyes. They were full of sincerity and worry and behind that was hurt. You looked back down at his hand and put yours in his softly and he equally softly wrapped his warm hand around yours that was cold in comparison and led you over to the bench and you both sat. He picked up the soft black box.

“After Madison had talked to me, I had a feeling I knew this conversation about you leaving would follow soon after. And the real reason I came back early wasn’t to surprise you but hopefully be able to catch you before you had left completely and at least try and save this, save us.” He looked from the box to you. 

“Then what's in it,” you said lightly and looked back down at it. 

Jackson turned the front of the box towards you and opened it. Sitting on a small bed of silk was a delicate gold chain, and a pendant no bigger than the size of a nickel of a crescent moon was on it. Your mouth dropped open a little in amazement and you looked it with awe. Jackson turned the box back towards himself and swiftly he removed the necklace from the box and held it up in the space between the two of you so you could get a better look at it.nYou took the pendant in your hand and Jackson let go of the chain so you could examine the necklace. 

The middle of the pendant was opal inlay that was outlined and backed in gold. On the back, engraved in Jackson’s writing was written: “to my moon ♡ Jackson”. You brought your hand to your mouth as tears filled your eyes.

You were right, Jackson was the sun. He burned too brightly sometimes. people often had a difficult time with his bright and powerful personality. But as much as it burned, you missed him when he was gone, the warmth he brought to you. His passion was so contagious. And now he is sitting here telling you about how you make it easier for him to shine and it was all so much, it was overwhelming. 

“The sun is nothing without the moon,” you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes as he spoke to you, his own eyes getting watery as he continued, “please. Please reconsider.” He scanned your face with his eyes as he waited for your response. 

You looked back down at the absolutely beautiful, handcrafted, handpicked necklace that was in your hand and you slowly flipped the pendant over and over in your hand. After a few moments, you let out a sigh and looked back into Jackson’s waiting eyes full of pain and hurt. tears pooled in your eyes again looking at how hurt this man was at the idea of losing you.

“Jackson Wang, you are the sun. But I am the moon,” your voice cracked and a tear fell from your eye and rolled down your face, “we’re going to have to work harder on this, on us. But you’re right, the sun is nothing without the moon.” And you smiled softly. Jackson reached up hesitantly and wiped the tear falling from your face.

“So does this mean you’re staying?” His eyes were so soft, voice so soft that he didn’t want to spook you and have you change your mind. 

You nodded in response to his question and he pulled you forward by the shoulders into an embrace. He rubbed your back lightly with his hands and you returned the gesture on his back with your hands. The warmth from his body radiated off of him and on to you like he actually was the sun. 

Jackson Wang might have been the sun, but you were now the moon.


End file.
